The Swan and the Viper
by LuckyLadybug
Summary: 1987 series, my Exit the Fly verse. Baxter is in a very strange situation when two completely opposite women start vying for his attention, for completely opposite reasons.


**Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 1987**

 **The Swan and the Viper**

 **By Lucky_Ladybug**

 **Notes: The characters from the show are not mine. The two female OCs and the story are mine! ThickerThanLove helped with sorting out various plot elements. This is part of my** _ **Exit the Fly**_ **verse. Baxter is human again and an ally of the Turtles. His brother Barney no longer works for Shredder.**

Baxter stood at the back of Barney's classroom, proudly smiling as Barney and Vincent taught the day's topic. Barney certainly hadn't lost his talent for instructing; he was a natural as he called on students and interacted with their answers. Vincent wrote on the chalkboard.

The students were all very attentive and responsive. They clearly respected Barney and enjoyed his take on the lessons. And since Barney encouraged free thought and reveled in deep discussions, several of them were taking him up on it.

Baxter folded his arms and listened to the current discussion. One of the students had brought up the findings that even the DNA of twins was not identical and wondering whether the currently accepted ideas for twin studies made sense. Barney had looked over at Baxter, catching his eye with a pleased gleam before engaging the student in conversation.

It was nice to know that recent scientific findings showed all the more that twins were individual. Both Baxter and Barney hoped that going forward, they would not have the problems of people not apologizing if they got the two mixed up, as had happened many times in the past especially to Barney. Naturally there would still be some problems, they knew, but now that they were getting along Baxter hoped it would never again be a serious issue.

The bell rang and Barney looked up. "We'll have to continue this next time," he said. "Class is dismissed." Everyone started to get up. "On your way out, say Hello to my brother Baxter, who stopped by to visit us today." He indicated Baxter at the back of the room.

The students turned to look. As they filed out, they did indeed each stop to greet the other scientist. Baxter felt a little awkward, but he did his best to hide it and smile while speaking to them.

The one who had started the discussion on twins was particularly enthusiastic. "I've seen you on the news," she said. "I've wanted to meet you! Did you study neuropsychology too?"

"No; my focus was more on engineering," Baxter said. He wasn't sure how to address the other part of what she had said. "By the way, Barney was very happy with the discussion you started."

"Really?" She looked thrilled.

Baxter nodded. "He's always encouraged students to develop their own opinions based on the evidence and the facts, instead of blindly accepting whatever is being pushed as the truth."

"He's a cool teacher," she declared. "And it's always annoyed me when twins aren't seen as individual. I'm glad science has been finding out otherwise. You and Barney are completely different from each other."

"We're alike on some things," Baxter said. "But yes, different on many others."

"Oh, by the way, I'm Gloria Vaughn." She held out a hand. "Will I see you again?"

Baxter shook her hand. "I'll probably drop by from time to time," he said.

"Good. I'll see you around!" She waved at him before heading out.

Vincent looked amused as he came over to Baxter. "She likes you, Pal."

Baxter colored. "What?"

"The look in her eyes," Barney remarked. "I'd say she has a crush."

"Oh my goodness." Baxter stared after her. "I didn't say anything that encouraged her, did I?"

"Not that I could hear," Barney said. "But some people develop crushes just from being able to talk to someone. Or maybe she already had it since she's seen you on the news."

Baxter slumped back against the table, running a hand into his hair. "I've never had anyone give me a second glance," he exclaimed. "What do I do?"

"Don't do anything," Barney said, raising an eyebrow. "Crushes are harmless. It will pass."

"Unless you'd like to see something more come of it, Pal," Vincent said.

"What?! No!" Baxter exclaimed. "And I doubt she'd stay interested in me; there must be over twenty years beween our ages!"

"May-December romances don't always fail," Barney shrugged. "But that's beside the point. Miss Vaughn seems like a level-headed girl, one who wouldn't clog her brain with slushy nonsense like romantic fantasies, but I suppose even she could fall prey to such shallow idiocy. I wouldn't worry."

Vincent pushed himself onto the table and sat there, swinging his legs. "Did you ever have someone crush on you, Barney?"

Baxter looked to Barney, curious as well.

"There was a student of mine with an innocent crush once," Barney admitted. "At first she just stayed late to help me clean up the classroom and I didn't think anything of it. Then she started make overt indications in her speech that she was in love with me and wanted us to get married."

Vincent chuckled. Baxter was alarmed.

"But of course I didn't encourage her and it wasn't long before she found another idol. Sooner or later they always do." Barney's expression darkened. "And then you know about the girl I attended the university with who deliberately got me in trouble when I rejected her advances. Aside from simply not being interested in general, I could tell she was up to no good."

"You were always good at sensing that sort of thing," Baxter said quietly. "I wish I had been."

"You've matured a lot, Brother," Barney told him. "You're a better judge of character these days. If you encountered someone with ill intentions again, I believe you'd know it."

"I wish I could believe that," Baxter muttered. Louder he said, "Obviously I'm still not very good at sensing things, if both of you realized that girl has a crush on me and I didn't."

"The person being crushed on is usually the last to know," Vincent said.

"You've never experienced this before," Barney said. "And I'll admit it wasn't blatant. It's not surprising you wouldn't pick up on it."

"I suppose," Baxter said slowly. "Oh. I wanted to tell you both, the class was wonderful." He smiled. "But of course I knew it would be."

"Thank you," Barney said.

"Thanks, Pal," Vincent grinned.

"I have to get back to work, but maybe we can have dinner soon?" Baxter offered.

"We should be able to," Barney nodded. "Probably not tonight. Maybe in a day or so."

"We'll let you know," Vincent promised.

Baxter was in a good mood as he headed outside to his car. He didn't even notice the woman in black standing nearby until she called out to him.

"Dr. Stockman?"

He jumped a mile and turned. The woman was wearing a huge floppy hat with a small veil, but the smile on her painted lips was obvious as she stepped closer to him.

"H-Hello," he stammered. "Are you sure I'm the Dr. Stockman you want? My brother . . ."

"Oh no, I wanted to speak with you, Baxter." She slipped a notepad out of her cloak. "I'm Vivalene. Just Vivalene. I'm a reporter for the Philadelphia Gazette. I've heard that your life has been looking up for you lately. I convinced my editor it would make a wonderful human interest story and came out here to get the scoop."

Something about the woman made Baxter nervous. But she also held out a business card, which he took and looked at. It seemed legitimate. . . . Still, he would like to do some research before agreeing to something like this.

"I . . . I'm honored that you're interested," he said. "But I've already done a very lengthy interview with April O'Neil. I don't think I could bring anything new to the interview you want."

"Oh, I'm sure you can," she answered. "In 43 years of living, you must have had many exciting experiences. Anyway, your interview with Miss O'Neil didn't cover the fact that you've finally made a deal with someone for your Mousers, or that people are petitioning the governor for an official pardon for you. Am I right?"

"That's true," Baxter said slowly.

"Then why don't we meet for dinner and discuss it further?"

"I have to get back to work," Baxter hedged. "I don't know if I'll be free tonight. . . ."

"Of course, Darling. Call me if you're available." She smiled again and turned to go. "I'll be waiting to hear from you."

Baxter stared after her as she headed back up the sidewalk. "This is unbelievable," he said under his breath. "Two women interested in me in one day?! That's . . . not possible." He retreated to the shelter of his station wagon.

xxxx

Irma was rapidly typing at her desk when Baxter returned to Channel 6. "Hi, Dr. Stockman," she greeted. "How's Barney's class?"

"It's coming along very well," Baxter smiled.

"Oh, some girl showed up and dropped this off for you," Irma announced. She whipped out an envelope and handed it to him.

"What?" He took it and stared at the unfamiliar handwriting.

"She looked like a college student," Irma said. Teasingly she laced her fingers and rested her chin on them. "Are you keeping secrets, Doctor?"

Baxter went red. "No, I'm not." He opened the envelope and removed a piece of stationery.

 _I was so happy to finally meet you today, Dr. Stockman. Would it be possible for us to have lunch sometime and discuss science? Here's my phone number._

 _Gloria_

"Wow, what is it?" Irma blinked.

"She wants to discuss science," Baxter said without thinking.

"Oh yeah, probably chemistry," Irma quipped.

"I'm sure there's nothing romantic about her intentions," Baxter retorted. "She's seen me on the news. She likely has some legitimate questions to ask. About science," he quickly added.

"Sure she does," Irma smiled. "That's why she sprayed the envelope and stationery with perfume."

Baxter colored again. "She's one of Barney's students," he protested. "I only met her today."

"But she's been seeing you for a long time, if she's been watching you on the news," Irma said. "What if she even joined Barney's class because you're his brother and she hoped she'd get to meet you that way?"

"Oh, that's preposterous!" Baxter exclaimed. "She seemed to be a very level-headed girl who wanted to learn. She was probably in the class before Barney was even offered the job."

"Maybe," Irma said. "But even though you're an expert on scientific things, Doctor, you really have a lot to learn about what a woman in love will do."

"Hmph," said Baxter, not wanting to admit to how clueless he was on the subject. "Oh. Have you ever heard of a woman named Vivalene?"

Irma blinked in surprise. "The name sounds familiar," she said. "Why?"

"I'd like to know if she really works for the Philadelphia Gazette," Baxter told her.

"I can find out, no problem." Irma brought up a search engine and started typing. "Huh."

Baxter wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. "What is it?"

"She doesn't work for that paper, that's for sure," Irma frowned. "The last anyone heard of her, she was in a coma after trying to kill the district attorney of Los Angeles County. That was . . . over six years ago. Apparently she . . . disappeared from the prison hospital not too long ago and . . . they've been trying to keep it hush-hush. She's got a long history of horrible crimes, in L.A. and elsewhere."

Baxter blanched. "What?! What on Earth would someone like that want from me?!"

Irma stared at him. "Did she write you that note?!"

"No!" Baxter exclaimed. "This was written by a girl named Gloria. This . . . Vivalene person hailed me as I was walking to my car."

"Gee, what is this fatal attraction you have all of a sudden?" Irma wondered.

"That's what I'd like to know!" Baxter cried.

Irma looked concerned now. "I'm gonna keep researching her, okay? I'll let you know what I find out."

"Thank you, Miss Langinstein." Baxter turned away, rubbing his forehead as he plodded down the hall to his office. This was absolutely bizarre. And judging from what Irma was learning about Vivalene, downright frightening.

He sank into the couch in his office and laid down, studying the note from Gloria again. That certainly sounded innocuous enough. If it wasn't for the perfume, he might believe she really was just a curious science student. In fact, maybe Irma was wrong and the perfume didn't mean Gloria had romantic intentions. Surely not all women did certain things for only one reason.

The Turtle-Comm rang and he pulled it out. "Hello, Michelangelo," he greeted, relieved for a distraction. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Michelangelo said. "Feeling a lot better than I was . . . although I'm still upset about those energy mes."

"I know," Baxter said kindly. "It might take a long time for you to not be upset about that."

"Well, I just got done helping a construction crew rebuild part of a building one of them wrecked," Michelangelo said. "I'm ready to party. I could bring a pizza down there and we could chow down," he suggested.

Baxter hesitated. He needed to work, but he was so shaken after these revelations about the Vivalene woman that he wondered how well he would concentrate. And it _was_ close to dinner time; Barney taught classes at two times on some days and Baxter had popped in on the later one.

"Alright," he smiled.

"Gnarly! I'll be right over," Michelangelo promised.

Baxter hung up and sat up, thoughtfully studying the perfumed note again.

xxxx

Michelangelo arrived in a few minutes with a couple of pizzas. "Hey, Baxter!" he chirped. "I got a couple of different things we can try. I made sure that you got slices with normal stuff, though."

"Thank you, Michelangelo," Baxter smiled. "You can put them on that table and drag it over here." He indicated a small white table against the far wall.

"Okay!" Michelangelo did so and plopped on the couch next to his friend. "So how're things going for you?"

". . . Unusual," Baxter confessed. He opened one of the boxes and took out a slice. "Michelangelo . . . err, I suppose this is a bizarre question, but . . . have you ever had a situation where someone was . . . ahem . . . apparently crushing on you?"

Michelangelo chomped into a slice of pizza and turned to stare at him. "Uh . . . no, I don't think so," he said. "Mutant Turtles don't get a lot of that."

Baxter flushed, feeling foolish for asking. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. . . ."

Michelangelo blushed a bit too. "I kind of have a crush on Kala, though. . . . Maybe she kind of does on me too. . . . Not sure on that. . . . We don't see each other real often, with her being in Dimension X and all that. . . ."

"Kala," Baxter mused. "She's . . . one of the Neutrinos?"

"Yeah," Michelangelo nodded. He looked down at his pizza.

"I have to admit, I never realized that you felt that way about anyone," Baxter confessed. "I think I have the bad habit of assuming that anyone who doesn't talk about it or show it probably isn't interested, at least at the moment. I should have realized otherwise. . . . It's normal for most teenagers."

"Aww well, it's not like I talk about it much," Michelangelo said. "We live in totally different worlds and all, so there's not much chance we'd ever really get together long enough to even have a date. If, you know, Kala actually would be interested in that. . . ."

"Maybe the next time you see her, you should ask," Baxter said with a kind and encouraging smile.

"Maybe I should . . . if there's time in between all the running around outsmarting Shred-Head," Michelangelo said. "I think we only see the Neutrinos when Shredder and Krang are up to something involving them. Except for when Donatello contacted them about that time-travel egg thingie so we could get back home. . . ."

Baxter shuddered at the memory of their foray into that dark future. Sometimes he still thought about it on cold nights when he was alone in his apartment. Especially Barney so angry and grief-stricken over Baxter's disappearance that he had gone half out of his mind. Baxter would never forget the sight of Barney in the doorway of that old house, his hair prematurely streaked gray and his eyes wild as he clutched a shotgun and screamed about Baxter being another hallucination.

"But so . . . why do you want to know about crushes and stuff, Baxter?" Michelangelo asked. "Are you crushing on someone?"

"No," Baxter retorted, coming back to the present. "But everyone seems to think one of Barney's students has a crush on me. I met her today and now she sent me this note." He held it up.

Michelangelo looked it over. "Well, I'm not really an expert or anything, Bud. That looks pretty casual to me, but I dunno. . . . She definitely wants to see you again, so maybe . . ." He grinned. "Having lunch with her wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"Well, no," Baxter said slowly. "And since I'm not sure of her intentions, I suppose I should. Maybe she honestly has some legitimate science questions she's hoping I can answer." He looked worried. "But what if she does have some romantic notions and my accepting the invitation makes her believe I feel the same way? I've never even seen her before today! I know nothing about her!"

"I guess that could be kind of a problem," Michelangelo mused.

"Especially if she believes the nonsense Hollywood puts out," Baxter sighed. "I didn't think she seemed that type, but I guess there's no real reason why she couldn't be. She could be intelligent about science and naive about romance, the same as I was naive about human nature."

"That's true," Michelangelo agreed.

"It could look rude if I do nothing. Maybe after dinner I should call her and try to gauge how she seems then." Baxter looked awkward. "Do men usually have quandaries like this? In films it's always depicted as the women having them."

"I don't know why guys couldn't have them too," Michelangelo shrugged. "Especially since these days it's okay for girls to invite the guys on dates and stuff."

"I suppose." Baxter shifted. "I'm just so completely clueless about this entire subject matter."

"Well, at least you have some interest, unlike Barney," Michelangelo said. "Did you ever crush on anybody?"

"No, I can't say that I did," Baxter mused. "Barney and I were always strange in that way. Everyone around us crushed on people or dated or . . . took things all the way, and we were never attracted to anyone nor had the desire to . . . find out why everyone thought sex was so wonderful."

Michelangelo started on a new slice of pizza. "So . . . was it the same reasons for both of you? . . . Actually, what were the reasons at all?" He blinked. "I know you said Barney thought romance and stuff would get in the way of his work, but that was in college. . . ."

Baxter smiled a bit wryly. "We were always reclusive children who loved science. Barney only really came alive when he was demonstrating chemistry experiments for the neighborhood children. Yes, I believe for him, science was his true love even as a child.

"For me, I was shy and quiet and ignored, as you already know. No one ever wanted me to go on a date with them. The only dates I ever had were set up by my parents or people I knew at high school or college. If I had ever been attracted to someone, maybe I would have asked them on a date, but . . ." Baxter shook his head and gave a helpless shrug. "I was never attracted." His voice lowered. "I can't explain why, either. But people are cruel when one doesn't follow social mores, Michelangelo."

Michelangelo frowned, seeing the sad look come into Baxter's eyes. "I sure know how they act about mutants," he said. "You mean they treated you and Barney like that just because you didn't wanna date?!"

"Me, anyway. No one dared torment Barney." Baxter smiled slightly at that but then sobered. "It was seen as a very bizarre and unnatural thing, to have no interest in dating or sex. I suppose it still is today, really. It's becoming more and more socially acceptable to be interested in just about whomever or _what_ ever you want, as long as you're attracted to _something._ Those who aren't attracted to anything are often still shunned or made fun of."

"I never heard of people making fun of nuns or priests," Michelangelo blinked.

"Nuns and priests are understood. And I suppose in many cases, they're forsaking something they might want because they want to serve God more. But someone like me, well, I've never even had the desire in the first place. That is what's seen as preposterous and outlandish."

Michelangelo frowned. "That is mondo uncool."

"Yes," Baxter said quietly. "It is."

Michelangelo chewed in silence for a moment. "So you've like, still never . . . you know . . . done it. . . ."

"Never," Baxter said. "I've heard that some people with a lack of interest in personally having sex try to compensate in . . . other ways, but that was never the case with either Barney or me. There has simply never been any need to compensate for that in any way. The most I've ever been is slightly, idly curious without any intention of actually doing something about it. Barney has never even been that." He chuckled.

"And then you're still open to the idea of a romantic relationship while Barney isn't," Michelangelo said.

"Yes. I think it could be nice, someday, if I found the right person. Barney doesn't think it would be nice for him."

". . . I guess mutant Turtles are in the same boat with you guys," Michelangelo frowned. "Not having anybody, I mean. Even if we ever wanted to, like, have somebody, there's nobody we could even have. We're the only ones of our kind."

Baxter looked to him in surprise and concern. "I suppose that's true," he said slowly. "At least about there not being any other mutant turtles. . . ."

"I don't think I've ever even thought about it before," Michelangelo realized. "I mean, I never really figured anything _would_ come of me crushing on Kala, but I didn't really stop to think about how nothing really _could_."

"I wouldn't necessarily say that, Michelangelo," Baxter kindly answered. He felt terrible now. He really hadn't meant for the conversation to take this twist at all.

Michelangelo looked to him in confusion and wariness. "What do you mean?"

"Those who feel as I do . . . often want romantic relationships, but without physical intimacy as part of them," Baxter explained. "Of course, this is all the vaguest speculation, but if someday you and Kala actually talked and found you both wanted to be together more than anything else, perhaps it could be like that."

Michelangelo relaxed. "Oh. Yeah, I guess maybe that's a possibility . . . somewhere way down the line. Heck, like I said, I really don't even know if she feels like I do or if either of us would feel the same later."

"It's something to think about," Baxter said.

Michelangelo gave a thoughtful nod. "It _is_ really nice to think about, that maybe if me or one of the other Turtles wanted it, we could have someone even if they weren't a turtle."

"It would be," Baxter said. He wasn't sure how to handle this topic. But then, he imagined Michelangelo hadn't been sure how to respond to Baxter's topic either. Part of him wondered if he even should have blurted all that out to Michelangelo. After all, he _was_ still a boy, even though he and the others certainly were mature for their age. Maybe it was too much for him to comprehend right then. But Baxter had wanted to talk to someone who would have a different perspective on the subject than Barney, and Michelangelo was his closest friend along with Vincent, and somehow it had just all spilled out.

"I'm sorry," Baxter said now in chagrin. "I didn't mean to make you start thinking about your future like that."

"Oh, that's okay, Amigo," Michelangelo said. "Actually, I wonder why I never thought about that before. I bet the other guys have."

"Perhaps," Baxter said. "But perhaps not."

Michelangelo decided he didn't want to talk about it further right then. "So . . . what will you do if you have lunch with this girl and she, like, really is hoping for a fairy tale romance or something?"

Baxter cringed. "I don't know. I'd want to get to know someone properly before ever even considering starting a romance with them. I suppose I could tell her that. . . . I certainly don't want to hurt her, but if she has false notions it will probably be unavoidable."

"Yeah," Michelangelo frowned. Then he blinked in realization. "Hey, if this girl is one of Barney's students, doesn't that mean she's like, 20 or something?"

"Yes," Baxter said, slightly amused that Michelangelo hadn't thought of that before.

"So you wouldn't throw the age difference card at her or something like that," Michelangelo mused. "You haven't even brought that up at all."

"No, I can't see that being a factor for me," Baxter said. "Some young people are incredibly mature. I've known some older people who are less mature." He chuckled.

"True enough," Michelangelo said. "The guys and I have seen some mondo immature adults sometimes."

The sound of frantic footsteps brought them both to attention. "Dr. Stockman!" Irma pounded on the door.

"Come in," Baxter said in surprise . . . and renewed dread. He had forgotten about Vivalene while talking with Michelangelo. From Irma's actions, it seemed that she had learned something new and definitely not good.

Irma burst into the office, barely taking note of Michelangelo. "Dr. Stockman, this woman is awful!" she cried. "She's got a long history of getting in with guys she thinks she can profit from and then trying to kill them when she gets it! Or if she doesn't!"

"Barney's student?!" Michelangelo gasped.

"No, the other one!" Irma said. "Oh. Hi, Michelangelo."

"What other one?!" Michelangelo looked to Baxter in alarm. "What's going on?!"

Baxter sighed. "I was trying to forget for a while. That's why I didn't mention her, Michelangelo. She cornered me when I was leaving the campus. Her story sounded suspicious, so I asked Miss Langinstein to look up what she could about her. Her name is Vivalene." He looked to Irma. "But what on Earth would she think she could get from me?! I'm not wealthy!"

"Like, you might be, if your Mousers take off," Michelangelo pointed out.

"That's true," Baxter frowned. "And she mentioned them too."

"Well, I say you'd better not have any more to do with her!" Irma exclaimed.

"Gladly!" Baxter retorted. "But if she's after me, I'm sure she'll show up again."

"They've been looking for her in Los Angeles," Irma said. "Maybe I could call the police down there and tell them she's up here!"

"I say it's worth a try," Michelangelo said.

Irma hurried off.

Baxter groaned, slumping back into the couch. "Oh . . . what am I going to do? I knew something didn't feel right about that woman, but I never dreamed the truth would be anything like this!"

"I say I should get in touch with the guys and see what they think," Michelangelo said.

"Go ahead," Baxter sighed, "but I don't know what good it will do. I doubt there's much we can do until the police get here. And now I'm so rattled I don't know what to think about contacting Barney's student tonight, either."

"Let's worry about this first." Michelangelo opened his Turtle-Comm. "Come in, guys! We've got a maximum problem here!"

"What is it, Michelangelo?" Leonardo asked.

"Some creepy dudette is after Baxter!" Michelangelo reported. "And Irma says she goes after a lot of guys and tries to kill them when she's through with them!"

Leonardo tensed. "Is she stalking him?"

"Not yet . . . I don't think. . . ." Michelangelo frowned. "But she pretended to be a reporter, only she's not, and she's wanted in Los Angeles! Irma's trying to call the police about her now."

"Well, that's good," Leonardo said. "In the meantime, maybe we'd better keep an eye on Baxter."

"Mondo notion," Michelangelo smiled. "I was sure you'd say that. I can hang with him for a while."

"You do that. But be careful!" Leonardo warned.

"I will be, Leonardo," Michelangelo insisted.

Irma came back as soon as Michelangelo hung up, but she looked bewildered.

"What happened, Miss Langinstein?!" Baxter demanded.

"The police officer told me they've already caught Vivalene," Irma said in disbelief. "They found her collapsed in Griffith Park and she's still unconscious! She's back in the prison hospital ward now. They think maybe she never did come out of the coma and someone just kidnapped her for some reason but was scared off. It's so weird."

"Well, then . . . what?" Michelangelo looked about as baffled as Baxter felt.

"They said she has a twin sister who causes a lot of trouble," Irma said. "And sometimes she pretends to be Vivalene. She's the one who tricked Vivalene into doing what got her into that coma in the first place. They think maybe it's her!"

Baxter cringed. "Well, what are they going to do about it?!"

"They'll contact the New York police to keep an eye out on her," Irma said.

"Is this twin sister just like Vivalene in the _femme fatale_ department?" Baxter asked.

"She's more into power than money," Irma said. "And she's not really big on the romance-slash-tricking guys stuff. But she'll do it if she thinks it'd help her get what she wants!"

"But if she wants power . . ." Baxter shuddered. "Maybe she wants some kind of invention from me!"

"She works for some creepy international organization of evil and they've already got a bunch of scientists," Irma said. "What would she want with another one?"

"Maybe I discovered something her scientists don't know about?" Baxter mused. "Only I can't think what that would be. . . . Aside from my Mousers, none of my inventions have become famous . . . or infamous."

"I say this is mondo disturbing, Baxter Dude," Michelangelo declared. "And you should definitely continue to have Turtle protection."

Baxter smiled. "I would definitely be grateful."

xxxx

Nothing more happened that night. By morning, Baxter was feeling calm enough that he determined he should call Barney's student. He set the note by the telephone and dialed, his hand trembling as soon as he did. This really was nerve-wracking. If she really wanted to discuss science, then he could relax. But when there was the concern that she had other intentions in mind, he just didn't know how he was going to handle it.

A click. "Hello?"

Baxter swallowed hard. "Hello, M-Miss Vaughn. This is Baxter Stockman. I . . . wanted to thank you for your thoughtful note . . ."

"You really liked it?!" she exclaimed.

"Yes," Baxter said sincerely. "About the science questions you have, though . . . are you sure I can help you with that? I'm not very familiar with the ins and outs of neuropsychology. . . ."

"Well . . ." She sounded slightly awkward now. "Mainly I wanted to discuss the kind of science that interests you."

Baxter went red. ". . . Are you thinking of taking up engineering?" he asked. At the same time he regretted playing dumb like this. He was increasingly sure that her intentions were less about science and more about him, and keeping up this line of questioning was probably only making her embarrassed.

"I might," she said. "In addition to neuropsychology, of course."

"I'd be happy to talk with you about that," Baxter said. "I'm free today if you still want to have lunch. . . ."

"I'd love to!" she gushed, and Baxter's stomach dropped.

"Is there any particular place you would like to eat?" he asked.

"There's a pizza place right across from Channel 6," she said. "Then you wouldn't have to travel out of your way."

Baxter smiled a bit. "Alright. I'll see you at noon."

They said Goodbye and hung up.

Baxter sighed and leaned back. She was a thoughtful girl, which was certainly nice to see. And maybe she really was interested in engineering.

On the other hand, maybe any professed interest was simply because he was interested in it and she wanted to be interested in what he liked. Hopefully he would be able to gauge that at lunch and encourage her to stick with what she really liked.

He was highly disturbed when he walked out of the apartment building and found the woman in black standing next to his car. "Oh, Dr. Stockman," she purred. "I didn't hear back from you and I was really hoping for that interview."

He frowned. "For what purpose?" He folded his arms. "I learned that you don't really work for that newspaper or any other."

"Alright, I admit it. I'm a freelancer. I'm hoping to sell the story to the Philadelphia Gazette when I have it," she answered. "I thought I'd have a better chance of getting a scoop if I said I actually worked for the paper. It's worked before."

Well, that was actually possible, but . . .

"And your name is truly Vivalene?" Baxter continued. "I heard that Vivalene is still in a coma in Los Angeles after trying to murder the district attorney."

"There's more than one Vivalene, Darling," was the reply. "I'm thinking of changing my name because I'm always getting mistaken for that horrible woman."

Baxter studied her with wariness in his eyes. That was also completely reasonable. Still, he really hated to just believe everything she was saying hook, line, and sinker. "Then why do you want to hide what you look like?" he asked. "If you're not her, shouldn't you want to show everyone that you're not?"

She lifted the veil enough to reveal one green eye. "Grant me an interview and I'll tell you," she smiled.

Baxter really didn't like the sound of any of this. But he also wasn't sure it was a good idea to outright refuse her at this point. She might only keep bothering him. Maybe if he agreed to what she supposedly wanted, she would leave him alone.

"We would have to talk in a public establishment," he said.

"Of course!" she said. "Naturally you're not the type who would allow a strange woman into his apartment."

"No, I'm not," Baxter grunted.

"We can have dinner at this restaurant." She handed him a flyer for an expensive Italian eatery.

Baxter took it and looked at it. Well, that was surely public enough . . . although he wasn't sure he liked her choosing the place. Still, he was aware of it and knew that it was a legitimate business. Then again, what if it was a front for that international organization of evil that Vivalene's sister worked for?

"Why this place?" he asked.

"It's very quaint," she smiled. "But if you can think of something you would like better . . ."

"This is fine," he said. If it _was_ a front, maybe the Turtles or April could secretly go along and expose it for what it was. Then his problems with this woman might end for sure. If she really was Vivalene's sister. . . .

"Good. I'll meet you there at eight?" she purred.

"Fine," he nodded.

He waited to pull out until he saw her getting into her vehicle and leaving. Probably a rental, but he took down the license anyway.

He shook his head as he drove. This was certainly going to be a bizarre day. Two meetings with women, both of which might not be what they appeared to be on the surface. And as for the women themselves, the mysteries had only deepened for each of them.

xxxx

Barney sighed as he wrote on the chalkboard for the morning class. Today's lesson was going to be one of the most difficult and challenging; he had stayed up late into the night planning it. He was tired.

"I wonder what's happened with Baxter and that student of ours," Vincent spoke.

"Probably nothing," Barney grunted.

"Unless she decided to contact him again," Vincent pointed out.

"If she did, I wish Baxter well in dealing with her," Barney retorted. "That will certainly be a new experience for him. It might be good for him. I had to learn how to deal with such scenarios. He should as well."

"What about dealing with that other chick?" came Michelangelo's voice.

Both Barney and Vincent jumped. "What are you talking about?" Barney frowned. He turned to face the direction of the voice. Michelangelo was standing in the doorway, looking worried.

"I guess he didn't tell you," Michelangelo realized.

"Tell us what?" Vincent stood, setting the manual aside.

"This other lady came and started talking to him and wanted an interview or something," Michelangelo explained. "But she doesn't really work for a paper and she's probably up to no good!"

As Barney and Vincent listened to the rest of the news about the second woman, they both stiffened in increasing worry and anger. "What would someone like that want with Baxter?!" Vincent cried.

"Like, we're totally not sure," Michelangelo said. "If it's the sister like the police think, maybe she's hoping to cash in on the Mousers if they take off."

"It could be that no matter who she is," Barney retorted. "Or she could even have some other motive in mind."

"Well, we're all trying to make sure Baxter's safe," Michelangelo said. "The lady set up some dinner meeting at a restaurant tonight and we're like, totally going in . . . mosquito?"

Barney raised an eyebrow. "Incognito?"

"Yeah, that's it!" Michelangelo snapped his fingers.

"Let us know what happens," Barney requested.

"I sure will," Michelangelo declared.

Barney swore under his breath when Michelangelo had left. "Baxter didn't mention a word of this to either of us," he said.

"If the woman was bothering you, would you have told him?" Vincent asked.

"No, probably not," Barney conceded. He started to pace. "But I don't like this. An innocent crush from a student is one thing. This other woman sounds anything but innocent. Obviously she can't be this Vivalene, but I don't trust her regardless."

"Maybe we should go to that restaurant too," Vincent suggested.

"I think we'd only draw attention to Baxter," Barney retorted. "I still look enough like him that the waiters might get mixed up. And who knows what some fancy restaurant would think of a walking computer."

Vincent sighed. "We could wait outside?"

"I'm sure the Turtles can handle it," Barney said.

"Even if she's the sister and the restaurant is a front for her international organization of evil?"

Barney scowled. ". . . We'll wait outside."

Vincent smiled.

xxxx

Baxter was prompt and arrived at the pizza restaurant across from Channel 6 exactly at noon. Gloria was also prompt; she met him at the front door with a smile. "Dr. Stockman! I'm so glad you could make it," she gushed. "I have a table for us over there in the corner, where we won't be disturbed."

"Thank you," Baxter said, although he found himself feeling all the more awkward at that statement.

Gloria led him to the table and settled down, unable to keep from grinning. "I want to know all about your scientific work," she exclaimed. "How you got interested, why you chose the field you did, and all of your inventions!"

Baxter blushed. "I'm afraid that would take up more time than getting lunch will take," he said.

The waitress came and took their orders. Then Gloria leaned on the table, crossing her arms. "Tell me about your inventions then," she said. "You must have invented all kinds of things in addition to the Mousers. Which I already know all about," she added, coloring a bit herself.

Baxter paused. "Tell me this first, Miss Vaughn," he said. "When did you hear about the Mousers?"

"When that horrible scandal first happened, after Shredder framed you," Gloria said. "I thought something was fishy then and I tried to tell people they should listen to your side of the story. But of course no one did." She scowled.

"So you've been aware of me all during that time?" Baxter was starting to feel even more awkward, not to mention stunned.

"Yeah. Then you disappeared and that fly creature appeared, and I didn't want to believe it was you even though he said his name was Baxter Stockman, and then you appeared again and you were human again and getting a job at Channel 6 and I was so happy for you that something was finally going right in your life again . . . !"

Baxter felt a little dizzy trying to keep up. Gloria was becoming very animated now.

"I was grieving with you when your brother seemed to be dead," she said. "I think I flew onto my balcony and whooped and hollered when he came back alive."

Baxter smiled a bit. "Were you happy for him as well as me?"

"Of course!" she insisted. "He proved himself a hero, just like you said. And he deserved another chance. I'll admit I didn't like him in the past, though. He was always trying to assert that he was so much better than you and that made me find him completely reprehensible."

"He's changed a great deal," Baxter said.

"It was a dream come true for me when he took over my neuropsychology class!" Gloria rushed on. "I thought maybe you'd visit sometime and I'd get to meet you and then you did and I did!"

Baxter had the feeling he was probably bright red now. He was still trying to process what all this meant. A fan? He had actually had a fan for years? He hadn't thought anyone had even liked him until he had started doing the segments on the news. In the past he might have come off sounding somewhat arrogant to have a fan, but right now he didn't know what to make of it at all.

"You . . . kept yourself quite composed when we met," he finally said.

"I know, but I was leaping for joy inside. And then when you actually agreed to have lunch, I couldn't hold my excitement back any longer!"

"I . . . I'm happy I've been able to make you so happy," Baxter said in amazement.

The pizza arrived and he used that as an excuse to start eating a piece and fall silent for a moment. Maybe they had all interpreted everything wrong. Maybe she was just an idolizing young girl who wanted a chance to meet her favorite celebrity. On the other hand, maybe she had heard of the rare occasions where a celebrity and a fan actually ended up romantically linked and she had dreams of that.

"So, tell me about your inventions," Gloria said again.

Baxter told her some of his ideas that had never quite come to fruition: half-finished ideas that had later been dismantled by the Turtles and by Barney when at different times they had raided the abandoned workshop for parts. Some of them he was still thinking of trying again, but at the moment he would rather work with the newer ideas that he had been designing on his computer. He didn't mention those.

"You always had so much to offer the world," Gloria declared. "I'm so glad you're finally getting the chance!"

"So am I," Baxter said. "I never would if it wasn't for my friends." He hesitated. "I . . . I'm sorry if I seem awkward, Miss Vaughn. . . . I've . . . never met anyone before who's so immediately enthusiastic about me."

"I'm probably overwhelming, aren't I?" Gloria said with a half-smile. "That's what people tell me I'm like when I get excited about something."

"No, you're fine," Baxter said. "I'm just . . . unaccustomed to such praise from someone I don't know."

"Yeah. . . ." Gloria took another slice of pizza. "I know, I probably sound like some creepy stalker or groupie or something. I know I don't really know you or anything . . . and that I probably never will . . . But what I do know, I like. And I know you weren't given a fair shake before. I really am just super happy that you're finally getting what you deserve. And that I was able to see it happen."

Baxter smiled. "Thank you. I'm touched. And for the record, you aren't creepy at all. You're a very kind girl."

Gloria beamed. "You really mean that," she said in awe.

"Of course," Baxter said.

For the rest of their time together, he was able to fully relax and talk with her about science and his inventions and also ask her about her plans in life. She responded happily and they were able to converse like blossoming friends.

Baxter felt foolish now for worrying about Gloria's intentions. But he was sure he wasn't wrong to worry about what Vivalene wanted from him. He dreaded the evening and their dinner date.

xxxx

The restaurant was very crowded when Baxter pulled up at five of eight that evening. That was a relief, as it also was to see the Turtle Van parked nearby. Michelangelo had told him they would all be there in disguise.

He blinked in surprise at the sight of Barney's Cadillac parked across the street. He hadn't expected that. But Vincent caught his eye and gave him a wave and Baxter smiled. So many were concerned about him.

He steeled himself and headed inside. He needed to get this over with. And, he hoped, he wouldn't encounter this woman any more after this.

She was waiting for him inside with the maitre d'. "Oh good, you're right on time, Darling," she smiled. "Our table is ready."

The maitre d' eyed Baxter's casual clothes, but frowned and lifted the velvet rope without comment. "Right this way," he gestured. He led them to a table near the back, then left them alone.

Vivalene removed her hat and veil. "Now, isn't this nice?" she smiled, brushing a few strands of curly red hair away from her face.

"Yes," Baxter said slowly. "But you told me you're not the Vivalene who caused all that trouble. That Vivalene looks just like you." Irma had found a picture and shown it to him earlier that day.

"Well . . ." She pouted. "I'll admit I'm the Vivalene they _think_ did all those terrible things, but it's not true. It was always my sister pretending to be me."

Baxter frowned. "You didn't tell me that before."

"Because I was afraid you wouldn't believe me." Vivalene reached for the menu. "Hardly anyone does."

That was logical too, but Baxter was getting tired of her lies. By this point he didn't know _what_ to believe. He just wanted this to be over.

"Alright," he said coolly, lifting his menu as well. "You wanted an interview. What do you want to know?"

Vivalene leaned forward. "All about your deal for the Mousers-how that came about, why someone was interested now when they weren't before, and how much you stand to profit."

The last part definitely set off alarm bells in Baxter's mind. "It's too soon to estimate any type of profit," he said. "I'd rather wait and see what happens. But I can give you the other information." He proceeded to tell her about Mr. Johnson, but he could tell that she wasn't really that interested. She scribbled a few half-hearted notes in a notepad in between reading the menu.

"Fascinating," she said. "You've become quite beloved after the city initially turned against you."

"It's surprising to me," Baxter said. "But a happy surprise."

"I'm sure." She smiled at him and laid her hand over his. "You deserve all the happiness in the world."

Somehow when she said it, it didn't sound sincere. And he didn't appreciate this type of physical contact. He jerked his hand back. "Thank you," he said.

The evening proceeded in the same unsettling manner. Vivalene continued to try to press Baxter about information on money whenever possible, mixed in with continually finding ways to touch his hand or arm. He finally jerked to his feet, eyes flaming.

"Can't you keep your hands to yourself?!" he snapped.

She looked taken aback, then angry. "Most men like being touched by a beautiful lady."

"Many men prefer to know the beautiful lady first," Baxter retorted. "I don't know you and I don't want to know you! You've lied to me every time we've met! I don't believe you're a reporter. I don't believe your intentions for me are decent at all! And I won't put up with this any longer!" Without waiting for a reply, he turned and stormed towards the exit.

The Turtles got up from where they had been sitting some distance away and glowered at Vivalene. "We won't either," Raphael declared. "Keep away from our pal from now on, or else!"

"No duh," Michelangelo added.

Baxter was outside, clutching his arms, when the Turtles caught up with him. Across the street, Barney and Vincent were getting out of the Cadillac and also starting over.

"What happened?" Barney demanded.

Baxter shook his head. "If this place is a front for a criminal operation, I completely blew any chance of finding out about it," he said in dismay. "She kept touching me and I couldn't take it. . . ."

"I wanted to go over and give her a piece of my mind a long time ago," Raphael growled.

Leonardo nodded. "You just don't do that with a complete stranger." He sounded angry, unusual for him. But the way Vivalene had behaved had upset all of them, including him.

Baxter looked to Michelangelo. "That younger girl had far better manners," he exclaimed. "She respected me and my space. This Vivalene doesn't."

"She'll probably be coming out any time," Donatello realized.

"And I don't want to be here when she does," Baxter declared.

"We'll take you home, Pal," Vincent said.

"Righteous!" Michelangelo said. "And one of us can drive your car back."

Baxter smiled a bit. "You know, it's really incredible how well you drive, considering none of you have a license."

"I wonder if we could see about getting some now that people are getting to be more accepting of us," Michelangelo mused.

"It's something to shoot for," Raphael said. "Later."

They agreed.

xxxx

Everyone stayed with Baxter until they were sure he was calm enough to go to sleep. Even then, Michelangelo still wasn't sure he wanted to go. "Are you sure you're okay, Dude?" he asked in concern

Baxter smiled at him. "Yes. I'm probably overreacting in the first place. She couldn't be that Vivalene woman if Vivalene's still in a coma. Maybe she really is a freelance reporter. And maybe she just gets overly affectionate with people, even near-strangers. There _are_ people like that. . . ."

"I guess so," Michelangelo said slowly.

"Really, I feel embarrassed for making such a fuss over it," Baxter said. "It's probably only because I'm asexual. . . ."

"That isn't true," Barney retorted. "There are very few people of any orientation who appreciate someone invading their personal space. It was inexcusable of that woman to keep finding ways to do that."

"And I can bring up plenty of articles and research to support that," Vincent added.

Baxter smiled. "Thank you. That's not necessary."

"Just as long as you know it's true, Dude," Michelangelo said in concern.

The other Turtles nodded. "You are absolutely not in the wrong, Baxter," Donatello insisted.

Baxter was definitely feeling better when they left. He went about the apartment, making sure the windows and door were locked before turning down the lights and preparing to get ready for bed.

He was just slipping out of his coat when the sound of something in the lock on the front door sent him spinning around in bewilderment and disbelief. The door eased open and Vivalene stood there, smiling seductively at him. "Hello, Darling."

Baxter just stood and stared, his mouth working but no sound coming out.

"I realized you were probably shy and I shouldn't have tried to make my move in public." She shut the door and locked it.

Baxter took a step back. "What is it you want from me?!" he cried. "You're breaking into my apartment!"

"Well, technically I _broke_ into your apartment." Vivalene waved a lockpick at him before slipping it into her purse. "As I said, I know you're a shy, sweet man. I thought maybe you needed to be alone with me to relax." She tossed her mink stole on a chair and undid her coat. Underneath, she was wearing a shimmery blue nightgown.

Baxter was simply appalled. Who had ever heard tell of such gall?! "We hardly even know each other," he protested.

"There's no time like the present." She approached him, gently draping her arms over his shoulders as she stood over him. She was several inches taller than he, close to April's height or maybe even taller.

Baxter just stared at her. He was completely mortified, not just at this position but at the fact that her nightgown was very low-cut. He slid her arms off of his shoulders. "I'm not that kind of man!"

"Everyone is, Darling." She reached out, touching his wild brown hair. "They just have different breaking points."

He brushed her hand away. "You won't get anywhere with me," he insisted. "Even if I was attracted to you, I'd resist something like this."

She pouted. "You're not attracted to me?"

"It's nothing personal," Baxter told her. "I'm not attracted to anyone."

She flipped her hair over her shoulder. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It's the same with a lot of scientists. Too busy to ever think of love . . . or lust."

"My profession has nothing to do with it. I'm open to the idea of a romantic relationship, under the right circumstances. These are not the right circumstances. If I ever decide on it, I'll choose a sweet girl, someone kind who respects me. Not a shameless tramp." Baxter folded his arms. "Now please, kindly leave."

She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh, and I had hoped you wouldn't be difficult."

"What happens if I _am_ difficult?" He gave her a wary look.

"Well, my original plans were to get to your wealthy brother through you," Vivalene purred. "I heard that he was immovable but that, as you just said, you weren't completely opposed to the idea of a romantic relationship. I wanted to marry you and get to your brother's money. Oh, and if you happened to come into money too, that was just great for me."

"That's ridiculous!" Baxter cried. "I don't have access to Barney's money!"

"I would have ensured that you would have," Vivalene retorted. "That we _both_ would have." She stepped back. "Now I have another idea. A whirlwind marriage ceremony, followed by an unfortunate accident for you. Then I will inherit whatever is coming to you from those Mousers, at least."

Terror filled Baxter's heart. "I'll never marry you!" he screamed.

"I know." Vivalene stood over him again, arms akimbo. "Unfortunately, the accident will come first. But I've already made up a marriage certificate. I know how to forge them very effectively." She shoved him backwards into the couch, then took a hypodermic needle out of her bag and leaned down. "I'll just put you to sleep with an untraceable drug. Then I'm afraid you're going to tumble out your window."

Baxter grabbed her wrists and held them away from him. "And what are you going to do in between those two events?!" he snapped. His heart was racing in his terror, but he hoped his feelings didn't show.

"What makes you think I'd do anything in between? I still wish I could convince you to do this willingly," Vivalene smirked. "We'd have a lot of fun together. And would you really be so opposed to stealing from your brother?"

"Of course I'd be opposed!" Baxter said in outrage. "I love my brother! I never wanted to hurt him!"

"Oh yes, he was always the one hurting you, wasn't he." Vivalene pulled her wrist free.

Baxter shoved her back with all his might and she slammed onto the floor. He sprang up, running for the front door as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

He wasn't expecting her to throw her handbag at him. He tripped, crashing to the floor himself. Before he could get up, she grabbed him and straddled him, holding his wrists together with one hand.

"You know, it's always interesting to me to see how my victims react," she purred. "It's always different. I can't decide what I like best-revealing my true colors to someone who actually fell for me or confirming a cynical person's suspicions about me."

"Don't you ever care about anyone besides yourself?!" Baxter demanded.

"Never," Vivalene whispered. She leaned in, as though about to kiss him, but then changed her mind and aimed the needle at his neck.

Baxter reached up with his free hand and snatched her wrist, holding the needle away from him. "I don't have to take this," he snarled.

She responded by striking him across the face. "I'm stronger than you!" she retorted. "Little man, what can you possibly do to fight me? I was cheated out of my last plans by my sister, of all people, and now that I'm finally free I _won't_ let it happen again!"

Baxter held up his hand to his stinging cheek. "You really are Vivalene, aren't you," he realized. "It was your sister they found in the park."

"Yes," Vivalene sneered. "Convenient having a twin, isn't it? We can betray each other and take on each other's identities at will. She betrayed me and caused me to end up in that coma. Now I returned the 'favor.'"

Baxter just stared at her. Another dysfunctional family relationship. . . . He and Barney had never been quite like this. He had always loved Barney, and now he knew that Barney had always loved him deep down, even when he had struggled with other feelings as well. But he saw nothing of sisterly love in Vivalene's eyes.

"Wait a minute," he frowned. "If you were in a coma for years, there's no way you could suddenly wake up and be this strong right away. You would need weeks of physical therapy!"

"Unless I had help." Vivalene was whispering again. She started to lean down, needle in hand.

Again Baxter pushed her away from him and struggled to stand, grabbing his phone as he did. "You would need highly advanced medical help," he frowned. "Something that isn't yet known on Earth."

Vivalene got to her feet, glowering at the man she had believed would be an easy victim. "You're going to keep on fighting me, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Baxter spat. "You sicken me! I didn't like you from the moment I met you. I didn't know how twisted you are, granted, but I knew something didn't feel right."

"Then he was right," Vivalene sneered. "You're not the naive kicked puppy you used to be."

"He?! Who?!" Baxter demanded. "Shredder? Krang? Did they put you up to this?!"

"Well." Vivalene walked up to him and draped her arms over his shoulders. "Kiss me willingly and maybe I'll tell you . . . before I kill you."

Baxter grabbed for her wrists once more. "If it was them, I'll find out some other way," he said.

"Or maybe we'll just drag it out of you!"

Both Baxter and Vivalene jumped a mile as the door was kicked in and the Turtles leaped into the room, followed by Barney and Vincent. It was Raphael who had spoken, and he stood in front with both sais and his teeth bared.

"You all came back," Baxter said in stunned amazement.

"Like, we felt something wasn't right too," Michelangelo said.

"And now, if you would kindly step away from my brother." Electricity crackled in Vincent's hands. "Or you can just go ahead and be shocked. I'd be more than happy to oblige." He sneered.

"And I wouldn't try to stop him," Barney said coldly.

Vivalene scowled. "You want to protect him that badly? You can have him." She shoved Baxter away from her. "Think fast!"

A smoke bomb exploded in the room. Everyone coughed and tried to wave it away.

"She's getting away!" Leonardo knew. "After her!" He gave chase, the other Turtles barreling after him.

"Oh, it's no use!" Donatello said in dismay. "She got away!"

"Let's keep looking," Raphael growled. "She can't have got far!"

"Totally," Michelangelo agreed. He was worried about Baxter, but Barney and Vincent were back with him. They needed to catch Vivalene.

In the apartment, Baxter trembled, suddenly feeling weak now that the immediate danger had passed. He collapsed into the couch and leaned forward, digging his hands into his hair.

"Baxter?" Barney sat down next to him in concern. Vincent came to stand by the couch arm.

Baxter didn't look up. "She . . . she tried to tempt me into bed with her. . . . Then she was going to kill me. . . . She kept trying to stick me with a needle. . . ." He shook his head. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come back. . . ."

"Oh Pal . . ." Vincent knelt down by the couch arm and reached to touch Baxter's arm.

Baxter jumped but then leaned towards Vincent. His friend's touch was kind and gentle, completely unlike Vivalene's heartless, cold grasp. "This . . . this kind of thing isn't supposed to happen. . . ."

"Of course it isn't," Barney snarled. "You've suffered enough."

Baxter hunched over and crossed his arms on his lap. "I'm so weak. Everyone still thinks I'm the perfect target any time they want to cause trouble."

"Baxter." Barney got off the couch and stood in front of him. "Look at me."

Slowly Baxter did.

"Baxter, this can happen to anyone if the other person is determined and evil enough," Barney said. "You were lucky. You were able to fight her off."

Vincent came around and sat next to Baxter now. "You were stronger than her," he insisted. "No matter what she did or how she insulted you, that's still true."

"And if I hadn't been able to stop her?" Baxter rasped.

"It wouldn't mean you were weak," Barney growled. "She was the weak one, for choosing to behave in such a base manner and take someone else's free will away from them."

Baxter looked from him to Vincent and back again. "Then . . . you don't think I'm a pathetic fool?"

A stricken look passed through Barney's eyes. "No!" he cried.

"Never," Vincent added.

The Turtles reappeared in the doorway. A triumphant Michelangelo was holding Vivalene in front of him, restraining her arms. "We got her!" he exclaimed.

Baxter looked over with a start. He shrank back, seeing the look of utter contempt Vivalene was throwing his way. But then, narrowing his eyes, he got up and walked over to her. "This time," he said, "I _am_ pressing charges."

"And we are with you all the way, Dude!" Michelangelo declared.

Baxter smiled. "I know."

xxxx

The rest of the evening was long and overwhelming. The police arrived, arrested Vivalene, and took down everyone's statements. April and Irma returned from doing the eleven o'clock news just as they were leaving and hurried upstairs to find out what had happened.

"Dr. Stockman!" April exclaimed as they stood in the doorway. The door, which the Turtles had had to break through, was hanging on its hinges.

"Are you alright?!" Irma added.

Baxter looked up. He was sitting on the couch with Barney and Vincent, while the Turtles were around the couch and on the floor around him. "Yes," he said. "Thank goodness."

"He's coming back with us tonight," Vincent said. "They can't fix the door until morning."

"Sorry we had to bust it in like that," Michelangelo said sheepishly.

"I'm not," Baxter said fervently.

"The policeman downstairs said that Vivalene woman broke in and assaulted you!" Irma cried.

Baxter couldn't refrain from shuddering. "She did."

"That's horrible!" April gasped.

"It could have been a lot worse," Baxter said.

"Well, thank goodness it wasn't," April declared.

"What's going to happen to Vivalene?" Irma wondered.

"I'm pressing charges," Baxter said. "And I imagine Los Angeles is going to have some questions for her as well. Someone helped her get out of that coma and to quickly recover, and she won't say who." Fear flickered in his eyes.

"Oh, it must have been Shredder and Krang," Raphael growled. "Who else would have both the technology and the hatred of you to go through with it?"

"I don't know," Baxter frowned. "But I also don't know why Shredder or Krang would waste time putting together a scheme like this. I'm nothing in Shredder's eyes. Certainly not worth a revenge plot."

"What if it wasn't a revenge plot?" Donatello suggested. "What if they made a deal with her to get, say, blueprints for inventions you or Barney might make that would help them? They're always looking for a bargain on inventions. And Krang really liked the stuff Barney was coming up with."

"Hey, now that actually makes sense!" Raphael exclaimed. ". . . In a really sick Shredder and Krang way."

Baxter cringed. "It does."

The lights on the laptop rapidly flashed. "And naturally if she hurt you, that would be just fine for them," Vincent spat.

Barney's expression darkened. "The next time we see them, we'll find out if they put her up to this," he vowed. "And if they did . . ."

"They're gonna, like, mondo regret it," Michelangelo vowed.

"Let's not get carried away," Leonardo warned. "We don't want to take revenge. That's never been our way." Nevertheless, his eyes filled with anger. "But there comes a time when even Ninja Turtles are pushed too far."

"You said it," Raphael snarled. "So look out, Shred-Head. If you had anything to do with this . . ."

"You're going to pay," Donatello finished.

xxxx

Baxter didn't say much on the drive to Barney and Vincent's house. Barney didn't push it, feeling that Baxter would talk if he felt like it. Vincent just sat with his friend, silently offering support.

"It was her twin they found unconscious in Griffith Park," Baxter spoke at last.

"What?" That wasn't what Barney had expected Baxter would say.

"Vivalene deliberately put her sister in a coma for the police to find so they would think it was her." Baxter sounded haunted. "And according to what Miss Langinstein found and what Vivalene admitted firsthand, the sister deliberately betrayed Vivalene years ago and that's how she ended up in the coma in the first place."

"Then there's certainly no love lost between them," Barney grunted.

Vincent frowned, not sure if Barney really didn't get what Baxter was distressed about or if Barney was deliberately playing dumb because he didn't want to discuss it. "You and Barney were never like that," he said.

"I know." Baxter leaned back against the seat and stared up at the ceiling of the car.

Barney snorted. "I deliberately betrayed you all the time. Alright, so I never tried to get you into a coma . . . unless you want to count when I considered throwing you to the Golden Goose. I thought that would be like suspended animation and you'd go to sleep without pain."

"But you couldn't do it," Baxter said softly. "And even if you had, you planned to rescue me as soon as you had the goose back. That was apparently never Vivalene's sister's goal. Or Vivalene's."

"Look at everything I _did_ do to you!" Barney snapped. "I threatened you when we were children. I refused to share a dormitory with you. I tried to ruin your chances in science contests more than once. I continually asserted that I was the better scientist over you."

"What's your point, Barney?" Vincent asked. "Are you saying you think you're as bad as those sisters are?"

"I'm saying Baxter doesn't focus enough on the truth," Barney retorted.

"You both focus on the truth," Vincent said. "You focus on the negative truth and Baxter focuses on the positive truth."

"Bah," Barney muttered.

"Seeing how those sisters were . . . really haunted me." Baxter looked to Barney. "We weren't that bad, no matter what you say. But I couldn't help thinking how things might have been if we were."

"Thinking of things that haven't happened is pointless," Barney said. "You're so determined to remember the good. So remember it. Be grateful we were never quite on the sisters' level."

"I am," Baxter said. "I'm more grateful the more I think about it. I guess I just wonder . . . if we ever could have gotten to that level. Part of me says No, because there always was love deep down. . . . The other part says . . . can we ever know that the sisters don't have love deep down as well. . . ."

Barney looked to Vincent, his eyes clearly saying _I don't want to talk about this._ But Vincent just looked at him with encouragement in his eyes. Baxter felt he had to talk about this right now. Barney would have to try, for Baxter's sake.

"What do you want me to say?" he said at last. "No, we can't know what's in their minds and hearts. I have to admit that love doesn't seem possible for them, but it didn't seem possible for us either. Honestly, I don't _want_ to compare us to them. I don't even want to think about that."

"You were comparing us to the Turtles the other night," Baxter said.

"Because they have a better situation than we have. The sisters have a worse situation. Or so it seems. Since we can't really know whether there's caring deep down, can we really say whether or not our dysfunctional behavior was worse? That's why I don't want to think about it. I don't want to ever imagine that our relationship could be as broken as theirs seems to be. It was horrible enough without that!"

Baxter looked down. "You're right," he said quietly. "That's how I feel too. . . . Only I want to talk about it instead of shoving it under the carpet."

"That's how we've always been different." Barney stared ahead at the road. "I didn't want to face problems. I wanted to hide them as far away from me as possible. Ironic for a neuropsychologist."

"You've been trying to face them lately," Baxter said. "I know it's hard for you and that makes it mean even more to me that you're trying."

Barney shrugged. "In order to get along better, that's how it apparently needs to be. So yes, I've been trying. Sometimes it's easier than other times." He sighed. "But I'll keep trying regardless."

Vincent smiled.

Barney pulled in at the gate and Vincent remotely unlocked it. He looked over at Baxter as Barney drove onto the property. "Are you alright, Pal?"

Baxter shook his head. "I don't know," he said softly. "It's all been so unnerving. There have been so many horrible experiences through my life. . . . I was tricked, framed, branded insane when I wasn't. . . . I went insane from being thrown in with insane people. . . . I was nearly murdered by disintegration and fused with a fly . . ." His voice cracked. "Now I've had people coming after me for revenge for various reasons . . . some justified, some not. . . . I worried for my brother's safety and later had to believe he was dead. . . ." Barney gripped the steering wheel. "I had to helplessly watch you go berserk. . . . And some wild woman broke into my apartment and tried to assault me. . . ." He covered his face with a hand.

Vincent reached for Baxter as the car pulled up near the doorway, then hesitated, not sure if Baxter would want to be touched. But Baxter gave a weak smile and leaned into the brotherly embrace. "It really does seem like you never get a break," Vincent said softly.

"Some of it's the consequences of my actions. . . . Some, the consequences of others' actions. . . . And some is just plain bad luck." Baxter sighed and closed his eyes. "If I had to face these things alone, I would probably break again."

"You'll never be alone, Pal," Vincent assured him. "We'll always be with you."

Barney hesitated too, but then slowly rested his hand on Baxter's arm.

Baxter smiled more and laid his hand on Barney's. "And that is why, in spite of this new round of horrible things, I'm happy," he said quietly. "I've never felt so loved."

They stayed like that for a moment before going inside.


End file.
